Victory
by elwenka
Summary: The war is over and the galaxy is safe. People of all sentient races can now rebuild their lives and enjoy the newly gained peace. But in this new reality, is there still a place for the person who brought them this victory? Post ME3; Shakarian; rated T for language
1. Chapter 1

"Victory should've tasted better", she said, looking with anger at the dead chunk of metal that once used to be a geth trooper. The turian sighed and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Quarians are working on it, Shepard", he said, trying to sound reassuring. "If anyone can bring the geth back, it's them"

"Yeah. If they wanted to." She sounded bitter. "I've heard one of the engineers saying that 'it's probably better in the great scheme of things'. Tali tried to talk some sense into them, but she was politely reminded that technically, she's still exiled."

Garrus was completely speechless. "Are you kidding me? Who said that?"

"Admiral Han'Gerrel. It seems that he hadn't yet come to terms with the fact that we stopped him from destroying their whole fleet."

"What a bosh'tet", he said and Shepard looked at him in surprise. "What?" The turian smiled weakly. "I'd call him barefaced, but that's the last thing that you could say about him."

Shepard actually chuckled.

"I've no idea what would I do without you", she said, looking at the turian with affection.

"You probably wouldn't win this war as stylishly", he answered with a smug grin. That was meant to be a joke, but he instantly recognized his mistake. The Commander scowled again, looking back at the geth body.

"I'm not even sure if I won it at all." Dark undertones in her voice really scared Garrus.

"You did," he assured her quickly. "The Reapers are gone…"

"Along with several millions of sentient beings", she snarled.

"I dream about it every night", she confessed after a moment of silence. "You know, about being up there…" The Commander sighed and sat on a pile of stone rubble. "I keep thinking that I've missed something. Maybe a correct answer, maybe some kind of override… It was just a machine after all. But I was tired and hurting, and all I could think about was that people were dying, while I was talking with this thing. I wanted to deal with it fast…" she laughed bitterly, looking at Garrus. "Do you hear me? I wanted to make galaxy-changing decision _fast_."

"You know, Shepard… People _were_ dying. I think that justifies the hurry."

"Yeah. But you know what I did? I ran numbers. I listened to this thing, and I ran numbers. 'Ten thousand million die so twenty thousand million could live…' Remember, when I told you that we couldn't reduce this war to numbers? I did just that."

"Shepard…" Garrus started lamely, trying to think about something right to say. Needlessly – she interrupted him anyway.

"You know what the worst part is? I had this feeling in my gut. I was pretty sure that it was a trap. And still, I played along. I was telling myself that it was the matter of choosing a right answer, but I was wrong. What was I even thinking, listening to some Überreaper and believing that I need to play by his rules? How could I willingly walk into this? I committed genocide, Garrus…" Her voice started to break as she was speaking. "And what did I get for that? A new, shiny medal…"

The turian got his bearings eventually and grabbed her arms, shaking her lightly.

"Cut it out, Shepard. Maybe I wasn't there with you, but I know you. You did the best you could. And I don't believe anyone could do it better. There were casualties, terrible casualties, and I mourn geth and EDI. But I also mourn turians, asari, humans, salarians, and all the rest that were killed during this war. And none of it was your fault. The Reapers are to blame. And the Reapers are gone. You did well."

The look she threw him told Garrus that she wasn't convinced at all. The only thing he managed to do was to stop her from speaking further – and he thought it even worse. In the silence that fell between them, he heard vibrating voices of quarian engineers working at the other end of the hall. They were arguing with passion over some programming details, which sounded esoteric even to him, tech-savvy as he was.

"The best they can do is to bring the geth back as they were before their exodus. They won't be the same as they were after Legion's sacrifice." Shepard's voice was heavy with grief, and Garrus discovered that he couldn't disagree. Instead, he reached for her hand.

"Let's go home", he said quietly. "Doctors said that you still need to rest a lot."

"Chakwas didn't say anything like that", she said defiantly, but stood up.

"Only because she knows that you wouldn't listen." He smiled at her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "But she told me to take care of you and keep you from straining yourself. You still need to heal."

Shepard mumbled under her breath something that surely wasn't polite at all, but she let him lead her away from the hangar, towards buildings that served as their temporary residence. They were in good shape, considering the destruction that was wreaked upon London not so long ago, and most of the Normandy crew was offered room there. Shepard would refuse, unwilling to leave her quarters aboard the frigate, but Garrus made this decision for her, while she was still unconscious. She shouldn't really be angry with him. The Normandy was, after all, an Alliance vessel, and she was technically on leave. According to the regs, she should have left the ship to make it available for military use. Still, it pained her, as she started to think of the Normandy as her home. And it has been docked since war ended anyway – if she was to live there what harm could it do?

They entered the apartment – it was spacious and well-lit, but hard to heat up – and Garrus went to the kitchen, turning on the kettle and pulling two trays of food from the fridge.

"What tea do you prefer?" he asked, putting food in a heater and opening a cabinet.

"I want coffee", she said grimly, sitting at the old couch and wrapping a blanket around herself. She couldn't stop thinking about the people who used to live here before the war. She felt like a graverobber, using their furniture and blankets, but still – they were probably dead, and resources were scarce. She shouldn't complain.

"Dr. Chakwas said that you shouldn't drink more than two cups a day. You already had four", he answered, taking a box from the cabinet and preparing his own beverage. It was _atchane_, some weird, violet liquid, which he told her was the best thing any freezing turian could wish for.

"Then I don't want anything." She looked through the window, watching snow which started to fall while he was preparing dinner.

"Suit yourself. But it's cold in here."

"I'll live."

They ate in silence. Or rather Garrus ate, while Shepard barely touched her food. If the turian hadn't already known that something was really wrong, the lack of appetite in a biotic would have been a really good clue. He tried to talk her into eating, but after a few words she gave him such a murderous look that he gave up.

He was gathering dirty dishes when silence was broken by the loud knocking. Shepard didn't move, so he put them into the sink and hurried to answer the door. Playing housewife was slowly starting to get on his nerves, but he said nothing. Shepard already had enough on her plate without his whining.

He opened the door and looked at their guest with genuine surprise. Zaeed Massani was the last person he was prepared to see. In fact, Massani was thought to be dead or left behind on one of the now inaccessible planets. They haven't heard from him since the last meeting on the Citadel. He declared his help but Garrus was pretty sure that the Alliance wasn't offering payment big enough to ensure his loyalty. Yet here he was, standing at their door in some rugged clothes covered with snow.

"Are you going to stare like I was some kind of winged pyjak, or are you letting me in?" asked the mercenary after a few seconds. "It's freaking cold outside."

"Zaeed?" Shepard moved from the couch, much to Garrus' surprise, looking at their old companion in shock. "Glad you made it." She smiled – she actually smiled for the first time since they were in the geth hangar.

"It takes more than a few overgrown squids to kill me", he laughed hoarsely, coming in and leaving big puddles at the floor. Not that it mattered. "But I've heard that the fucking Alliance has you grounded. I thought that I might check if that's true."

"Well, the proper term is 'on leave'", she answered. "However you're right – it feels like I'm grounded. Not that I have a galaxy to save right now. Whiskey?"

"I won't say no. I haven't had a decent drink in ages." The mercenary sat at the spot the Commander left moments ago. "I can't believe that you're sitting in this shithole, Shepard", he said while she was pouring drinks. "It ain't a place for ya."

"It's not like I have anything to do. As I said: no galaxy to save." She opened a bottle of dextro whiskey and poured a glass for her partner. "Where have you been, Zaeed?"

"I went on Aria's paycheck as soon as I learned that she's helping you. Not that I love the blue bitch, but the wages were better than what the Alliance offered me. I guess they had some trust issues." He chuckled, gulping half of his drink at once. "Apparently the same goes for Aria, as they sent us to do the cleaning in North America. Boring job, comparing to London, but I've got my share of reapers."

"Pity. You could be useful here." Said the turian, seating himself in a chair facing Zaeed.

"Not sure if I regret it. I've heard that it was no small feat to keep your ass in one piece here."

"You've heard right. This city was literally swarmed..."

Trading war stories with Zaeed was so natural, like they never left the Normandy. Shepard must have felt it too, judging by her low laughter and gleaming eyes. Garrus would be jealous if he wasn't so glad that she stopped wallowing in grief and self-pity, and started to act like herself. He hoped that it would last after the mercenary leaves. Shepard needed to start living again.

But after a bottle of whiskey the discussion made an unwanted turn.

"So you have activated the Crucible…" said scarred mercenary, looking at Shepard over his half empty glass. "That damned pulse was the prettiest thing I ever saw."

"Yeah. I did." Shepard instantly sunk into her armchair, looking at her glass with frightening intensity.

"You? I was thinking that they would send a whole team there." Zaeed looked surprised.

"Only Anderson and I managed to get to the Citadel", Shepard explained flatly. "And Anderson didn't make it. I had to finish it alone."

"No wonder that they slapped a new medal on ya." The mercenary patted Shepard's shoulder heartily. "You did a hell of a job there."

The Commander didn't answer, eyeing her drink. Her lighthearted mood vanished and the turian saw that it was gone for good.

"Damn, Shepard." Zaeed noticed that too. "You've seen some serious shit there, ain't ya?"

"Yeah. I've seen some serious shit." She seemed absent, lost again in her guilt. Garrus placed a hand on her knee, but she didn't notice. Massani cursed.

"Tell me again, what are you doing now?" he asked, pouring himself another glass.

"As I said: I'm resting. Taking care of my damned health. Avoiding strain", she spat.

"Damn. It's a shame that you haven't died there", muttered the mercenary under his breath. That suggestion made Garrus rise to his feet and growl furiously.

"What the hell are you suggesting, Zaeed?" he asked with hostility in his voice. Most humans would be terrified at the sight of him now, but the mercenary just shrugged.

"If ya wish to play mother hen, you've picked the wrong woman, turian", he drawled and turned his attention to the Commander. "A word of advice, Shepard: get the hell outta here. The sooner, the better. If you stay in this shithole, you're gonna go batshit crazy before too long. You ain't cut out for sitting idle so find yerself something to shoot at."

"You've missed the memo, Zaeed? Galaxy's safe. No jobs for Heroes." She scowled at him, ignoring the raging turian in the room.

"Bullshit. There's always somebody who is in need of a bullet between the eyes." Zaeed shrugged and stood up. "It's time for me, and your boyfriend seems to be pissed. Think it through anyway. I'm serious. This ain't some shrink bullshit I'm talking about."

"It was good to see you, Zaeed", said Shepard walking him out.

"Well, Pretty. If you find something, let me know", he said, tapping at his omnitool. "It's not like there are many places to spend my hard earned credits here. I could use some action."

"Sure." Her own omnitool blinked, receiving a new contact data. "We'll be in touch."

She closed the door and turned to her furious partner. Garrus' mandibles were wide open, showing his intimidating teeth, when he growled:

"We'll be in touch? You must be kidding me. He basically said that he wished you were dead."

"Well, that wasn't really nice, but I don't need nice right now. And he has a point." She sat back and finished her whiskey. "His advice was probably the best I've heard in a very long time. Much better than all this bullshit about 'avoiding strain'."

Garrus' fury shifted into disbelief.

"It isn't even remotely funny, Shepard", he said, eyeing her gravely.

"It wasn't supposed to be." Her demeanor was as calm as her answer. "I'm really grateful that I can be here, now, with you. If I had to die, my only regret would be that I'm losing a chance to live with you. But otherwise, it would be much easier."

Turian's mandibles were tightly pressed to his chin, as he looked at her grimly.

"I've died once", she reminded him. "I'm not afraid of death anymore. It was… calm. I'd made a neat propaganda poster for the Alliance and I wouldn't care anymore. But living? After all of this? Well, that's what I'm afraid of."

He listened to her in silence, waiting for some explanation he could comprehend.

"I've fought my war already, Garrus", she continued with a pained frown on her face. "I've had my share of horrors, and now there's nothing I can use to distract myself from reliving them. And I think that I'm basically useless right now. We need engineers, architects and nutrition specialists. Not crazy soldiers, who can't even carry out their orders."

"As I recall, you did pretty well. You just ignored orders that conflicted with the important ones."

"Platitudes gone old, Garrus", she smiled despite the grim topic of their discussion.

"Riiight", he drawled toying with his empty glass. Shepard sighed and placed a hand on his arm.

"Why don't we watch some cheesy old vids and go to sleep?" she asked almost cheerfully… Someone who didn't know her well might have been fooled, but Vakarian saw deep shadows under her eyes, and that little twitch of the corner of her mouth as she presented him a fake smile. He briefly considered calling her bluff, but decided against it. It was better to let this discussion pass and hope that next day would be better.

"Sure. As I recall, you still haven't seen the last Blasto", he offered with the same false cheer.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello again! Next chapter is up, I hope that you'll enjoy it :) I have a little dilemma about the continuation - I've got two ideas that rule out each other, and I'm not sure, which one should I develop. One is quite depressing - much more of hurt, some comfort ;) and second one would include much more action, much less moping Shepard ;) I'd love to know your opinion about that since I have no idea which version would work better :)_

_And big kudos to my wonderful betas, who make my poor English look quite nice ;) _

_(Oh, and I have decided to include "xxxxx" as breaks since formatting really sucks)_

* * *

A few days later Liara stormed into their apartment without knocking.

"Shepard, Garrus! You must hear it!" she exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"What exactly?" asked the Commander, who just left the bathroom and was drying her hair with a towel.

"They've just found out what happened to the relays!"

Since the war Sol Relay was closed to traffic, as it was damaged after being hit by the Crucible's pulse. Repairing it was top priority as most of Galaxy's forces were stranded in the Sol System, and resources were fast depleting. Indeed, it was good news that the scientists have figured out what happened to their basic means of communication.

"That's great." Garrus smiled from the table, where he was meticulously cleaning his rifle. "Are there any estimations on how long will the repairs take?"

"They are not repairing it", answered Liara, but the glee hasn't disappeared from her eyes.

"What do you mean: they're not repairing it?" asked Shepard with surprise. It seemed impossible that the government wasn't going to make any attempts to help the stranded soldiers get back to their homes. If this situation held much longer, all people staying in the Sol System would be facing a serious threat of starvation. Even with quarian lifeships and their supplies of dextroamino food, there simply weren't enough resources for all of those people.

"They aren't, because the relays are not broken", stated Liara matter-of-factly. "They are just miscalibrated."

Garrus made a sound that fell somewhere in between chuckling and choking. Shepard smirked.

"Now you just need to tell me that they need Garrus to calibrate it again and you'll have made my day", she said, not even trying to hide her amusement.

The asari giggled loudly.

"No, Shepard. That's not what I had in mind... However, I must admit that the idea is hilarious."

"Not at all." Garrus tried to look offended. "But I'm afraid that after my calibrations the mass relay would be deadlier than ever before."

The Commander smiled widely and looked at the turian with pure amusement.

"I'm pretty sure of it, Garrus", she answered honestly and turned her attention to Liara. "So, if the relays are miscalibrated, that means…?"

"It means that the relay network looks completely different than before. And the Council wants to send a recon team to map it again."

"Why won't the engineers just…" Shepard couldn't stop a chuckle. "Calibrate them again?"

"As far as I know, it's beyond our capabilities" answered the asari. "This process seems to be more complicated than anyone might have suspected and needs cooperation on both sides of the relay – and now that's out of question. We can't reach people who stayed on their homeworlds."

"I'd say that it beats staying in this shithole", said the human woman looking at her partner. "I guess it's time to take Zaeed's advice."

"If you say so…" The turian wasn't genuinely opposed to volunteering for this task, but he was still sour about Massani. As good as his advice might have been, he still didn't like the way it was delivered. Shepard frowned slightly as if she guessed what he was thinking about, but reached for her hairbrush with new enthusiasm.

"I believe it's time for me to pay a visit to Hackett."

xxxxx

As soon as it was confirmed that the entire Council was in the Citadel during the Reaper Invasion and therefore couldn't have survived, a new Council was elected. Those new councilors were unsure of their newly gained position and terrified by the amount of destruction that could have been avoided if only the old Council had listened to non-council races. That meant that they more often than not sought guidance from heads of racial governments – and it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing if it didn't also mean that they were highly indecisive. In the past few months it proved to be much more effective to apply directly to Hackett than to the Councilors, as his word was usually considered to be even more important than the Council's – since everyone was stuck in human's solar system. That's why Shepard found herself in a weird position of applying for Spectre mission to the head of human government.

"How you did even learn about this assignment, Shepard?" asked the grey-headed Admiral, watching the Spectre intensely. "It's classified knowledge that we're doing anything like that."

"I believe that I have all the necessary clearances, sir", answered the woman, however from the stark tone of her superior she could already tell that she wouldn't like the outcome of this meeting. "And it seems that this is a mission for a Spectre. I'm a Spectre, I've got a good crew and I command the best ship in the fleet. I guess it's right thing to do."

"You're right, Shepard", started Hackett cautiously. "It's a job for a Spectre. And I think that we should send the Normandy…"

The Commander couldn't believe her ears. It seemed that Hackett was actually going to tell the Council that she should go.

"But Staff Commander Alenko already has volunteered and was approved by the Council", finished the Admiral. "He's taking the Normandy. His departure is scheduled three days from now."

Shepard felt slowly building rage as she heard this news.

"Really? You're giving my ship to Alenko without even informing me that there's a job to be done?" she asked with her brow furrowed in anger. Hackett sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His uniform hat was lying on the desk between them.

"It's an Alliance vessel, Commander", he answered, his voice tired. "Not your personal ship. And you're technically on leave. I personally believe that you should make use of your hard earned rest."

"The Alliance vessel went down on Alchera almost four years ago", snapped Shepard, barely containing her rage. Right now she really wanted to break the worn out desk on the Admiral's head. "This is the ship I took from Cerberus… as part of my payment", she concluded. It didn't make much sense, especially that after her brief episode with Cerberus she surrendered the frigate to the Alliance command – but she really didn't care.

"And now it's Alliance property, Shepard." Hackett hasn't been moved by her outburst. "Go home, relax and rest a little. As I've heard your wounds haven't fully healed yet."

Shepard knew well enough when she was dismissed so she stood up and proceeded to leave. She needed to vent her anger and decided that she had to set something like a firing range near her apartment. Obviously, she didn't have many other options.

Hackett's voice stopped her in the door.

"And no commandeering of Alliance ships this time, Shepard. You don't have the Reapers to save you from being court-martialed anymore."

"Aye, aye, sir", she growled, slamming the door shut.

xxxxx

Snow crunched loudly under her feet as she trudged furiously through the crowded street. Some of the people she passed by surely recognized her; a young asari looked as if she wanted to talk to her – maybe ask for an autograph – but after one look at the Commander's face she changed her mind. But even now not everyone was that cautious. On the middle of the street stood a greenplated krogan, shifting impatiently on his legs – probably waiting for someone. He didn't even notice the enraged Commander until she bumped into him, hitting him with her shoulder.

"Hey!" he growled, turning to her. "Watch where you're going!"

"Watch where you're standing", she snapped, angry enough not to care that she was basically taunting a krogan.

The intimidating figure towered over her by at two heads, not to even mention his bulky stature. She wasn't an expert in estimating aliens' age but she guessed from the appearance of his skin that he was relatively young. And he looked as angry as she felt. Probably the only thing that stopped him from attacking her then and there were very strict rules that Wrex laid for his people for the duration of their stay on Earth.

"I'm standing where I want to stand", grunted the alien, pushing her back forcefully. She barely managed to stay on her feet. Despite all reason she pushed back.

"And I'm walking where I want to walk", she sneered at him. She didn't have to wait for the reaction; the giant alien lowered his head and charged at her. She leaped away just a blink of an eye before he hit her with all his body mass and threw him back with the biotic field. An activated amp tickled her lightly on the back of the skull. The familiar feeling made her even more eager to fight. The krogan stood up almost instantly and attacked her – trying to knock her over again. His tactic was crude and simple – but effective. Before she managed to load the next biotic blast, she was lying on her back, air gone from her lungs. The huge fist hit her under the left eye – if not for her hardened skin weave, she would surely have her cheekbone broken – and at the same second she unloaded all the energy she had accumulated straight into his face, sending him high in the air. Shepard jumped on her feet, pulling out her Carnifex and was already pulling the trigger…

"Shepard", she heard a familiar, low grumble. "Since when are you shooting at children?

"Wrex." She lowered her pistol, looking at the old krogan with aversion. "He started it. Last time I checked, your people were rather fond of fighting."

"It doesn't mean that you have to butcher this youngling in the middle of the street, Shepard. Can you tell me what the hell happened here?"

The Commander just shrugged.

"I didn't like his face. What are you doing here?"

"I am _not killing_ any annoying humans just because you look like pyjacks", answered the krogan grimly. "Where's Garrus?"

"What? Is he my babysitter now?" snapped Shepard, sheathing her weapon. The adrenaline started to wear down, and her ribs were hurting as hell. It didn't improve her mood.

"He gave that impression." The krogan leader smirked. "I have no idea how turian-human relationships look like – apart of the fact that you always took him along when you were going to kill someone."

The young krogan approached them with hostility written all over his face. Sight of Urdnot Wrex obviously tempered his rage a bit but not enough to let it go.

"Clan leader", he started defiantly. "I have unfinished business with this pyjack…"

"'This pyjack' has quads thrice as big as you have, Trez", interrupted Wrex. "And if I wasn't here, you'd be dead, so shut up and take those damned supplies to the camp. And tell Grunt that he has to wait for me a bit longer." He turned to the human woman, forcing her to move in the opposite direction. "Let's go, Shepard, before I'll have to kill you."

She reluctantly agreed to go with him – she wasn't happy about this interruption but she knew that her mood was a poor excuse for picking a fight with an old friend. Especially that when a fight with Wrex would surely be fatal.

When they walked towards her flat, she had to admit to herself that brawling with a krogan wasn't probably her best idea ever. Her face started to swell in reminiscence of the youngling's hit, sensitive skin – leftover from a terrible burn – stung like hell, her shoulder and hip ached as if she broke them again.

"You know, Shepard, next time you feel like letting loose, just visit me", said Wrex suddenly after ten long minutes of silence. They were almost approaching her home. "There's a lot of ryncol at the krogan camp and a few warriors who would be more than happy to have a friendly fight with you – and actually stand a chance." He guffawed, grinning at her. "Including me."

She forced herself to give him a thin-lipped smile and nod. The krogan gave her a friendly pat on the back – which caused her to wince in pain. The krogan's idea of caress wasn't best suited for a human recovering from near-fatal injuries. Wrex, uncommonly, noticed her grimace.

"Uh, I forgot that you're now as squishy as any human", he said in the way of apology. Shepard shook her head.

"No problem, Wrex", she said, entering the building.

xxxxx

"Spirits, Sally! What happened? You look as if you brawled with a krogan!" exclaimed Garrus rising from the couch.

"Actually, she did", said Wrex who followed the Commander into the flat. Garrus looked at him with disdain.

"Have you lost your mind, Wrex?" He asked furiously, but his anger was soon replaced with a surprise as the krogans' leader chuckled.

"Not with me. She had beaten the hell out of the kid I took with me to the city."

Turian let out a long sigh, giving his partner a resigned look. The woman rolled her eyes and moved to the couch. Garrus went to the cabinet, took two medi-gel packs and tossed them to her. The commander ignored her medicine, cuddling with the blanket.

"Sorry about the kiddo, Wrex", she said eventually. "I had a really bad day and he looked big enough… Not to mention that I literally bumped into him, because he was counting flagstones."

"He'll be alright, Shepard", the krogan waved her apology off. "But it must have been something big, if you're so pissed off."

Garrus was typing something on his omnitool, when she answered.

"Yep. Hackett turned down my request for a mission. He's sending Alenko instead."

Her partner looked over his message, genuinely shocked.

"That asshole? Well, I guess we'll have to take the Normandy and go on our own." He widened his mandibles, smiling at Shepard. She knew that he was only half joking – and that made her feel even worse.

"Well, we can't. He's taking her. Council's orders."


End file.
